


California Promises

by starsoverhead



Category: Knight Rider (1982)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsoverhead/pseuds/starsoverhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Michael Knight learned he could fall in love again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	California Promises

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only Michael/Bonnie story I'll ever write. Also be warned that it might not have a happy ending.

There were things that Michael Knight could and couldn’t do.

After he’d been shot - how long was it now? Over a decade. That was… eighty six and it was two-thousand and some change now, so it was probably more like twenty. No matter how long it’d been, it’d taken him over a year to get used to the fact that he wasn’t going to turn around in some supermarket or go around the corner on one of the streets he walked down and see Stevie. The wedding seemed like some weird dream. If it weren’t for the fact that RC and Kitt came by now and then, he’d swear the whole thing had been a dream.

But after that year and a half where he’d still worked at the Foundation, he eventually gave in. …Gave up, more like it. He’d retired. And it’d been a pretty good retirement. Nice house in the country with his own pond to fish in, his own mountainside a few miles down the road that he could climb if he’d wanted to. All in all, he really did have a nice little life out here by himself. There were times, though….

He’d said it to her before. Sometimes it takes a disaster for you to remember how good somebody really was. And… well, that whole… thing… That was a disaster if he’d ever seen one. Shot, nearly buried, then jerking away from the Foundation like it’d burned him. Married - for all of about thirty seconds. He wasn’t sure if that even counted when it really came down to it. Just like that tug on his heartstrings had told him, though, he’d gone back to the Foundation. He’d gone back, immersed himself in work, and he’d started learning a few things. First of all that he’d been looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Devon had been good to him, and he’d been an outright ass to Devon after all was said and done. He still wasn’t thrilled with the fact that he was pulled out of nowhere to be part of a project he’d never heard of, but at least it had given him a life and a purpose when otherwise, he probably would’ve ended up at a desk job for the rest of his life. He’d gained a father figure in Devon, a best friend in Kitt, and even something near tolerable in April. But he’d learned his lesson with Bonnie after the first year. Bonnie wasn’t someone to be flirted with and walked away from like…

Well. Like every other woman, besides Stevie, he was with during all that time. He even walked away from Stevie more than once. And, he reminded himself, she kept letting him. Part of him wondered now if their marriage would’ve lasted, even if Durant hadn’t made that decision for them. Because his heart hadn’t let go of Kitt. And when it came down to brass tacks, he was sure his heart hadn’t let go of the Foundation, either. They’d become his family. And when he came back, they let him back with arms open and without a hint of resentment.

That, Michael knew, was when things had started to change. He’d been in mourning, and they’d let him mourn. When he needed a distraction, they had one handy. But the one thing he was both proudest and most ashamed of was the night when he’d been outside and Bonnie had caught him humming.

“What’s that song?” she asked, and he looked up from his soda and offered as much of a smile as he could.

“It’s an old Elvis song,” he’d answered, the smile gaining a little footing. “Seems like I was always best at Elvis.”

They both chuckled and Bonnie sat down there on the steps beside him. It was a good night to sit outside - still warm, even after sunset. Shorts weather. Cold beer weather, but Michael knew better than to drink with his mind where it was. He looked from the sky to the soda can in his hands. “Me and Stevie… we were good at Elvis. She could always harmonise with me. I never got it right when I tried to harmonise with her. She said I only had a head for melody. And I…” He shrugged. “I never studied. I just sang.”

“I… read about when you went undercover,” Bonnie said. “With Stevie, you know. A few years ago.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he nodded. “You weren’t here.”

“No, I was busy being misled,” she answered with a touch of her own bitterness, but that was gone soon enough. “So… What song was it? I don’t really know any Elvis.”

“Hm? Oh. Forget Me Never. It was supposed to be used in one of his movies, see, and it was… too sad or something.”

Bonnie frowned slightly. Michael glanced over and shrugged. “I’m not going to pretend, Bon,” he sighed. “It hurts. It hurts like hell sometimes. I always counted on… on there being something for me to go home to when I was done with all this. And I thought I was done. And I really want to be done. But there’s nothing for me to go home to now. Stevie’s not gonna be there with… with the house and the fence and the life I always thought would be there.”

“Michael…” She’d reached over then, and she’d put her hand on his shoulder. “I… would say I’m sorry, but you’ve heard that every day. But you know I care for you - both of us do, me and Devon. Michael… talk to us, okay? Please.” Her arm wrapped over his shoulders.

The next thing Michael knew, he was holding on to her. He felt like he was in kindergarten, hiding from whatever the world would throw at him in arms he trusted. But Bonnie sure wasn’t his mom. Bonnie was… Bonnie. And she was holding him tight. Tighter than he thought she could, really - she didn’t look like the strongest person in the world, but he should’ve known. She was always doing all the work on Kitt, and that required muscle. He’d just never really felt it before.

It unraveled something in him that he’d been keeping carefully pent up since he’d been about to beat the life out of Durant. The anger was gone. That’d been resolved when Durant had landed in jail with multiple life sentences without the chance of parole. The one thing that had always ached was the loss that he’d never actually been able to feel because there were always so many other things that he had to think about. First it was Durant, and then it was his life, and now he was keeping his mind busy with work and… and Elvis songs.

In those moments, though, things were different. Because he knew he didn’t have to hide it. He knew that Bonnie meant it and that, for that time, at least, he was able to hurt, and he did. She didn’t judge him. And while he hated that he was crying, he cried. She stroked his hair and rubbed his shoulders and his neck, and even dried his tears with her shirt sleeves. That was when everything started to change.

For years, Michael had been… coming on to Bonnie. And he’d been turned down time after time. And now, he was starting to understand why. Every day, it was easier and easier for him to get closer to her and she… let him. It’d taken years, but now he was seeing what he hadn’t seen before. She’d not been open to him before because he’d… been open to everything. His life had been in the gutter, yeah, and he’d taken what he could then to get him through it, just like he was doing now - but then, he hadn’t turned to the work to swallow him. He’d turned to whatever woman would have him. She’d had no reason to trust him enough to let him get close. And just when he’d thought he was almost there, there’d been Stevie. Like an angel, glowing, appearing in front of him like a vision of all he’d lost and he clung to her.

And he’d lost Bonnie that quickly.

Now, there was no Stevie. And for all that hurt, when Bonnie looked at him and smiled, it was like the Balm of Gilead. After so long, somehow his heart was coming alive again. There were evenings spent at the Foundation, at the beach, at the park, anywhere they felt like going. He shored himself up on her and on Kitt - and they were always there for him. And unlike any other woman he’d ever known, it took him six months of evenings spent walking around and talking and learning to get along with her for him to actually kiss her. Two months after that, he was able to tell her he loved her.

A few weeks after that, he retired. For good, this time. But the important things didn’t change. He still saw Kitt, and Bonnie moved into an apartment a couple miles away from his new house. More often than not, though, he found himself on her couch unless she was on the semi, doing what she was the best at. What he did instead was teach himself to cook so, when she came home, she’d have a hot meal ready and waiting for her. And even in the houseboy role (he’d teased her about that more than once and each time they both ended up laughing and smiling and he felt even better), he found himself becoming happy again.

Neither of them noticed that he wasn’t doing what he’d always done. He wasn’t going out and finding other girls when Bonnie wasn’t there. He wasn’t throwing caution to the wind as he’d always done, and neither of them saw it. Their mutual blind spot, Michael thought now, was what had made it all fade.

Somebody like Bonnie couldn’t go their whole lives without opportunity. She was talented, smart, skilled - she was everything a scientist could want to be, and she was gorgeous on top of that. And she wasn’t career-dumb, either. When the letter came from MIT asking her to come and speak and work on projects with complete funding, after she got promises from them that she could still visit California - even on their dime - she accepted. After all, by then the Foundation had a promising tech by the name of Randy Merritt. Kitt would be in safe hands. And Michael couldn’t begrudge her the opportunity. He couldn’t bring himself to want to move cross-country.

They wrote or called instead - every day for the first while, then every week. And, just like always happened, it went down to every month and he started catching things in her letters. Names being dropped. A few names in particular. And that was when Michael realised he’d lost her again. She still wrote sometimes, but Michael had moved, too - to his house out of town, his pond, and his mountainside. And he was the only one in that house. There wasn’t another woman. There couldn’t be another woman - his heart didn’t have room for another one, even for a little while. Stevie and Bonnie were all he really needed.

So he was waiting out here. Waiting for nothing, it seemed like sometimes, but… waiting. Because maybe, eventually, Bonnie would come home. And he’d have a hot meal waiting for her when she got there.


End file.
